


The Things We Hide Inside

by dirtyicicles



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Mentions of Death, Selkie AU, inner conflict, minor depictions of gore and blood, stormblood spoilersish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-30 10:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12106485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyicicles/pseuds/dirtyicicles
Summary: Yda and her father always had picked their obsessions in the weirdest of places. Who knew their demise would come in the strangest of ways?Lyse is completely unaware of the tightly-intertwined mystery that revolves around the death of her family, and attempting to unravel it may have her plummeting to the same destination, six feet underground.





	The Things We Hide Inside

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know? This was an idea floating around in my head for a bit, and an idea I liked enough to pursue. Also we need more femslash out there, and I want to offer what I can. 
> 
> So I hope y'all enjoy! Don't be afraid to drop a comment/kudos if you did. It's most appreciated. ♥

It was a small thing. 

The kind of town where the air turned surreal at half past nine, where the air adopted an ethereal glimmer about it. The kind that lasted until the dark of night fell, turning the winding, twisting asphalt of the roads into blackened voids that ended at the icy mouth of the ocean's coasts. 

A small town cradled against the protective nesting of colorless cliffs, where the waves wreaked their vengeance against their sides. A bland, drab, awfully boring kind of town where nothing happened at all, and everyone seemed keen on watching the television and keeping indoors. 

The whole reason this town existed had come to a halt some few decades back, leaving graveyards of emptied husks where ships once floated, grandiose and underneath the guise of unsinkable, able to cut through the ice with ease, where their untimely demise ironically held them forevermore.

In part, it was the kind of town where a whole lot of nothing happened, and the truth had to be told at some point or another: it wasn't anyone's first pick. At all. 

But Lyse breathed deep of the salted air, cheeks tinged pink, nose adopting only a slight ache as blue eyes grazed over grey skies. Why her father and sister moved here, she would never know. Something about the call of the ocean, the rarity of sparkling waves underneath a shy sun, maybe. They'd always loved the ocean and everything it could bring to light, and her sister avidly pursued her career in marine biology with the hopes she would, one day, discover something underneath those undulating waves that was all hers in this hole-in-the-wall kind of town.

The ending, the amalgamation of all things that eventually come to that ending, turned into something unforgiving. The town had been unkind, and while Lyse had stayed home, where the sun wasn't as oppressed behind unrelenting gunmetal clouds, Yda had wandered deeper, until her demise came in the form of lashes, abrasions slashed across her chest, with a heart missing and bringing forth just as unkind words whispered from sea-chapped lips.

_An accident._

The words that had driven her father to his own _accident,_ over the cliffs that graced the west side. The cliffs no one wandered near, for some folktale or another. Some imaginary warning turned real. 

Still, it had been a few years since then. Lyse came back upon the anniversary of both, feeling some deep-seated obligation, some call to the same white waves that had taken what was the last of her family. Wholly unnecessary and yet just as much so, she wrapped her scarf a little more tightly around her mouth and watched the horizon with some contempt. 

While it had swallowed her love, a purpose unborn, it still captured even her own enamor. It urged her forward into abyssal depths that would ensure she never saw the light of day again, and for but a moment, she humored those thoughts.

I.

Conrad sat her down at the usual table, knuckles bared and worn to the elements, wrapped tight around a mug of coffee blacker than tar. Lyse found herself thinking it'd taste just as bad, too.

“It's still technically an open investigation,” he groaned, his knees collapsing out from underneath him as he heaved himself into the chair opposite of her. “I imagine it might be best to just look into the local reports, though. Closure is nice and all, at best, but you don't need to be throwing your neck out there like they did, sacrificing yourself to the sea. You're the only one we've got left, Lyse.” 

There was a tone to his voice that hinted at the possibility of something more, a hidden secret he didn't seem too keen on sharing. Lyse smiled at it, the best she could manage for the situation. 

“Thank you, Conrad. Truth be told, I'll probably just leave it alone.” 

A lie, but something to get the older man off of her back. He squinted, his eyes searching her own, but for the moment he seemed content.

“Well, if there's anything you need, you just let me know.” His stern gaze melted into a tender smile, and he reached out with knobbly joints to embrace one of her hands in a gentle, tender caress. “I do wish these visits weren't underneath such somber circumstances. There's more to here than what happened, but...” 

Lyse smiled, a nod of agreement to his statement following his words. “I know. Rest assured, I visit the place for what it is, with my mourning. It hasn't been as bad it could be.” 

Relief flashed a subtle sign in Conrad's eyes. 

“I'm sure the festival will do you just fine, then. I'll see you there?” A hopeful question. One Lyse couldn't help but nod to. 

“Of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world.” She smiled, bright and radiant, squeezing Conrad's hand once. He'd been good to her father, and he'd been good to her. There wasn't any reason to leave him hanging on such a simple request. 

So their temporary goodbyes were given in a soft falling of snow, fat flakes that fell lazily from the clouds. They caught in Lyse's hair and sent a shiver down her spine, crawling mischievously underneath the heavy fabric of both her coat and sweater. It was a lingering touch that carried itself with her all the way back to her hotel room, where she found herself eager to shirk her heavy layers and flop carelessly onto cheap comforters and even more flimsy pillows. 

The yellow glow of the lamps illuminated a ceiling almost as yellow as the light itself. Stains of water damage blossomed out against the wrinkles in the paint like ugly flowers, dark and foreboding of a collapsing roof. The heavy hint of musk hung in the air and threatened at her allergies, but she turned on her side, covered her nose with a hand, and idly watched the screen of the television at the foot of her bed. 

Despite technological advancements and the wonderful invention of an easy-to-navigate flatscreen TV, the town seemed keen on keeping itself stuck in the 80s. The big, ugly box-thing before her crackled constantly with an eerie static that played behind the moving images, and the remote refused to work unless she slapped it against the dresser a few times. 

She sighed irritably, knocking the butt where the batteries were situated against the palm of her hand. Just one channel she wanted to change, and that was it. It took quite the beating, but the screen finally clicked, and Lyse was on her preferred station. Some typical cooking show or another, one that housed her guilty pleasure in the form of a cake competition. 

Sugary glue passed before her eyes, and she watched lazily as cakes were built nearly as high as she was tall. Some of them were simple, terrible, but the few that stood out from the rest were magnificent: bright and colorful, unlike the steely waves she could faintly hear outside her window. They sloshed against the side of the rocks, groaning, whispering, eerie voices to their depths that sounded as sweet as the cakes she'd started dreaming of, as soft as the temporary slumber that played at the back of her eyelids.

Morning came later in the day, when the clouds finally parted for the allotted twenty minutes of sunlight. Lyse found herself out in the barely-warm, trickling rays of sunshine, feet planted firmly on cracked concrete. She'd always been a morning person, but as her tired gaze swept over the bakery rack lying within the encasement of glass before her, the gentle scent of coffee whipping around her nose, even she had to admit this was early. Too early. 

But she'd given herself a task, and she'd promised to keep at it. With a sigh she finally walked past the chime of a welcoming bell, ordered their strongest espresso, and forced her weary legs to carry her past snowbanks along meek, brick roads towards the library. 

It was settled at the edge of town, where the roads ended proper in a small park. “Park” wasn't quite the right word for what the small patch of leathery grass at the edge of the cliff was, but there was a bench dedicated to the town's founder, and a sign that deemed it good enough to be one. Lyse had sat with Yda on that very bench more times than she could count, listening to ramblings about salt deposits, the neutrality of the water, how hard or soft it was...

All technical jargon that poured from her mouth and rendered Lyse somewhat more confused than she had been before the conversation even started. But she remembered the few times when Yda had gone on about the seals. 

Leopard seals, to be exact. Lyse could see one out there on beach at the foot of the cliffs, its head turned upwards toward the sky. It seemed to be sniffing the air, relaxing, doing whatever it was that seals did. Lyse stepped up towards the protective fence that stood sturdy at the drop, leaning against it as she took an idle sip from her cup. 

The seal wasn't doing much of anything. Lyse was pretty sure it was on protected grounds, because despite the occasional disappearance, the occasional washed-up corpse with its heart missing, the seals were never blamed, somehow. There were signs dotting the beach, the walkways to it, the stairs that led down to the blackened sands, all spouting about fees in the thousands if you happened to kill a seal, accidental or not. The seals were held on high pedestals, worshiped like elder gods. 

Lyse narrowed her eyes as the seal down below turned its head, almost as if to meet her eyes and watch her in turn, like it could read her thoughts. It was sleek, muscular, a mouth full of pearl-white teeth that glimmered in the sun. They were hidden behind its maw for the time being, and like Lyse, it sat as still as a statue. 

It was the one thing she knew to point her finger at. Somehow, deep down, she knew the truth behind the _accidents._ It was trapped in the jail of a hundred teeth, in the stomach of some creature that was able to wallow away its days in languished, undisturbed peace. It was right in front of her, but so were the signs. 

_Absolutely_ NO _hunting._

_No hunting within the recreation area._

_No trespassing after 5p.m._

_NO HUNTING._

Lyse blinked, her gaze lingering on the seal for a moment longer. They only broke eye contact when she did, and even as her back turned, as she walked into the confined depths of the library, the feeling of being watched lingered and trickled down her spine. 

It settled in the base of her stomach, a clench of uneasiness as she looked the latest reports over. It was no wonder Conrad mentioned them; according to the police, the case of her father and sister was officially over and left to rot in the archives. 

_We've done all we could,_ she read. _There's just not enough evidence to go on._

All excuses she'd heard as a warning when this all had originally started. Words of semi-comfort, the kind that were meant to keep her hopes low and down against the dirt. It did nothing for the emptiness that had grown inside of her, left her lost and abandoned to the world at large, but the others liked to think they did something. After all, everyone always liked to think they offered something in somebody's end. 

She sighed, the newspapers and folders falling to a heap in her lap. That was that, and there was nothing more to do about the situation. The authorities had given it their all, and at the end of the day, they could go home with their gold stars and tout to their own families about their work, what they'd done, and how it was the best they could do. 

Lyse clenched a fist, swallowing the bitter bile rising in the back of her throat. There were yet good people in the town. People she liked. If she was careful about this, she was sure they'd help her look into whatever it was she wanted to look into. Closure was fine, at best, but Lyse wanted an answer. She wanted to look into the eyes of whatever, _whoever_ had done this, and grapple with a reason _why._

Why it was her. Why it was her world, out of all the others the universe contained within itself. Why it was her to be left alone, with a hole larger than life left inside. 

But the dead couldn't speak, and Lyse was the last one to try and wrangle words from their cold, dead lips. She could blame herself all she wanted, but at the end of the day, they were uncaring, and she was left to move on. 

II.

The festival was the only evidence the town still knew what a hue of pigment was. It was a simple little thing, held along the beaches and the boardwalks. Fun little games were to be had, where you could win prizes as elaborate as huge teddy bears. Lyse saw mostly couples wandering about, holding hands and sharing kisses, giggling as they poked each other in the cheek with a french fry. It was a scenic kind of peace, the kind that had Lyse staring unbeknownst herself. 

“It's almost like the temperature isn't in the negatives, huh?” Conrad asked, approaching Lyse from behind. She jumped, a squeak escaping her chattering lips as she turned on a heel to face him. 

“Yeah!” she said, raising her shivering hand in a greeting. “It's, uh...yeah.” She laughed, resuming the task of hugging herself as tightly as she could possibly manage. 

Conrad chuckled, wrapping an arm about Lyse's shoulder in an attempt to share body heat. It didn't help very much at all, but it was enough to break the wind from smacking against her face, at the very least. The festival was pretty, all shimmering lights flicking with the flakes of snow, but the winds blowing from across the oceans were horrendous. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” 

A question Lyse had anticipated, but was no less ready for. “Uh, yeah,” she started, her gaze falling from the fairy lights that lined the boardwalk. The snow muted the sounds of children playing, leaving her and Conrad in their own warped little space of privacy. “I saw that they've given up.” 

“They _tried,_ Lyse,” Conrad rebutted, adjusting her hat about her ears. She wanted to pull away, but her sullen gaze kept her in place. “There's not much else they can do when the evidence seemingly melted away with the snow, my dear. You know that.” 

Lyse did. “Yeah,” she muttered, kicking her boot against the snow, watching it crumple against the toe. “It's still just so frustrating, Conrad. I...” She shook her head. Her words would just delve into an argument, and that was the last thing she wanted. 

Conrad was erring on the side of sympathetic, at least, pulling back to offer her the smallest of smiles. “I know,” he murmured, “I know. If there were more to be done, you can rest assured I would be pushing for it. But for now...”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I know they're just hollow words, Lyse. But do try and take care of yourself, all right? Your father and sister wouldn't want to see you like this. They'd want you happy and doing what you love. Not hung up on a mystery that's plagued this place for years.” 

Lyse could hear the truth in his words, and she nodded, heaving a sigh of her own. “I know,” she echoed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “I know, I know. I'll let it go eventually. There's far less I can do, especially now with everything finally taken care of. Thank you anyway, Conrad.” 

Harsher tones than she had meant pushed past her lips, and she bit her tongue as she finally looked Conrad in the eye. “Er, sorry...I meant that.” 

Conrad only shook his head, a hand on his hip as he looked Lyse over. “Again, all I can offer are hollow words. Just do what you can to take care of yourself, Lyse. I'll be around if you need me, all right? Now go enjoy the festival.”

Lyse swallowed hard and nodded, her gaze lingering on Conrad's smile, on his back as he made off elsewhere. He had his own responsibilities, some kind of work, but it left her wanting. Wanting something more than just hollow words. She wanted understanding, but once more, at the end of the day...

She stared after Conrad, long until he had disappeared into the crowds. Teenagers and kids all bumped against her as she stood there, feeling as still as time itself. The ocean dragged at the beach's sands beside her, swallowing snow and leaving rocks as black as the night behind. Eventually Lyse turned her gaze to them instead, her feet dragging her towards the chilly shoreline. 

She walked it away from the crowd, away from the festival, away from the people staring after her in wonder and confusion. She was quickly forgotten as they went back about their business, leaving her to walk far away from the town itself, towards the spiked rocks at the cliffs' bases, where none-so-accidental deaths tended to happen. 

They were devoid of any people save for Lyse today, though. She sighed, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she allowed her gaze to wander. The sea was as grey as the sky, unintelligible from the horizon. Only the white foam from cresting waves made the distinguishable, tangible line between earth and sky, and the few lonely cries and outlines of the occasional bird sweeping the water's surface. 

The sunshine had gone long ago, and Lyse had to wonder how the people of the town managed to live in such a drab, miserable place. It had her tempted to just leave that night and finally put her sorrows behind her, but-

The shifting of something sliding against the rocks caught her attention, and Lyse turned around, breath steady as she locked eyes with a seal. It had risen from the waves, its skin glimmering, dripping wet, and its bloodied maw full of its catch. It was just some large fish, but Lyse eyed it warily, slowly backing away towards the way she had come. The seal huffed, she jumped, and while her heart shot to the roof of her mouth, the seal stayed put and did nothing. 

Lyse watched it, noting eyes an eerie shade of blue. They almost seemed to glow, slitted pupils kept on every movement she made. The seal itself was lighter in color, dappled gently with beige spots against a greyish-white body. It was unlike any other seal she had seen before, and quite frankly, Lyse had to wonder if what she was even looking at was real. 

But it _growled,_ raising a head and folding back lips, teeth as sharp as knives glimmering in what light of their day remained. Suddenly reminded of her own mortality, of the entire reason why she was even _there,_ her thundering heart had her backing slowly up until the distance between her and the seal was palpable. Only until the seal had blended in with the sky, the rocks, and seemingly completely disappeared did Lyse allow herself to stop and catch her breath. 

Walking backwards the entirety of the way back to the festival had some strange, lingering gazes upon her. She shouldered them off and ignored them to the best of her ability, hurrying on along back to her hotel, where her paperwork and printed copies of her police reports awaited her. 

Conrad was missing from the crowds, but that was all well and good. Conrad's insistence that she just let it go was the last thing she wanted to hear, and she'd rather fill her time (and ears) with something more sensible. She didn't know if tracking her own evidence down to its source counted as something more _sensible,_ but it was something she comforted herself with as she finally slipped past the door and found herself at the flimsy plywood desk.


End file.
